Pain Without Love
by a-dreaming-kitty
Summary: EWE Slash HPDM A chance encounter can spark an immense change. MPREG.


Pain (Without Love)

The air was sticky with sweat, hot and gripping. Harry groaned aloud at the sensations, a hot mouth, almost burning, pressed to his ear, his throat, his chest. White blond hair over steely gray eyes.

Draco pushed into him hard. Harry grit his teeth, swallowed the cry. He needed this, He could feel Draco all the way up, burning aching pain, and arms so tight around his waist that he couldn't breathe, surrounded by a different kind of fire.

He hadn't thought it would hurt this badly. He blinked back tears as he clung to Draco's graceful neck, buried his face in soft hair.

But the pain was good. It was better than the cold hollowed out feeling. He wrapped his legs around thing hips, pulling Draco deeper in.

Draco came inside him with eh same angry ferocity that he did everything. He pulled almost completely out and then slammed back in, his hand fisted in Harry's hair, pulling his head back. His face was buried against Harry's neck, his teeth buried in the tender flesh just above his collar bone.

Harry looked up as Draco pulled back. There was blood on his lips. Blood on his hips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and cast a scourgify on himself. Harry reached up, reached out, wanting to pet Draco's shining hair. Draco slapped his arm away viciously. He pulled on his clothes, spit at Harry's feet and apparated away.

He was clean. He's washed away what they'd done just as easily as he dismissed harry himself.

Shame, hot and sick, swooped through his stomach and up through his chest, leaving nothing in it's wake. He left his clothes, left everything but his wand. Naked, he apparated home. He lay on his bed, on top of the covers. His heated skin goosefleshes against the chill in the air. He turned on his side and pulled his knees up, pressed his face into them, blinking back more tears.

"It's stupid." he told himself. " I knew this would happen."

Dirty, soiled from what they'd done, he lay as the numb radiated colder than the room around him, save for his heart, scorched and screaming in his chest.

He didn't know why he'd bargained for this. He'd traded Draco's freedom, and those of the soulless husks called Lucius and Narcissa, for nothing more than pain and heartache to replace the nothingness.

'it wasn't supposed to be like this." he cried. He blinked rapidly, tears spilling sideways over his face. He remember the shock in Draco's eyes before it was quickly turned into a blank mask.

"yes." Draco said softly. "I'll do it."

And Harry had testified on the Malfoys behalf, had made sure Draco and his parents were set free. And Still… Draco hated him. Had hurt him.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He was supposed to have everything. He'd taken his NEWTs and gotten into Auror training. After the war had ended, He and Ginny had whirled around in a tempest fueled by dream, hopes and love. He'd gotten his dream job, she helped reverse the Dark curses on Hogwarts, and restore the building.

He'd proposed the day they had reopened Hogwarts, a brilliant example of a new beginning and their dreams coming true. Her beautiful browns eyes had shone with joyous tears as she said yes in a trembling voice and then laughed and threw her arms around him.

They had kisses, and touched, but they saved the rest for marriage. Saved themselves for each other. And that night.

She had walked towards him, glowing and graceful, cheeks alight and a traditional wedding gown, all lace and embroidery and not anywhere near as lovely as she was. She was wearing the shoes Molly had worn when she was married, and Fleur's veil.

Harry had cried when he saw her. Saw how happy she was simply to be his forever.

It had been her idea to drive home. She's seen it in the muggle romance movies. The married couple with cans tied to ribbons strung from the back bumper, a just married sign taped above it. She'd reached out and held his hand, looked out her window with a happy sigh as Harry drove.

"HARRY!" She'd screamed. He'd turned his head to see her pale, terrified face, freckles standing out and eyes wide and glassy, as the other cars headlights filtered through her veil. One split second before everything had gone black.

He woke to Hermione and Ron in the room at St. Mungo's, his body sore.

"Ginny?" He croaked through the grogginess, the sore throat. Hermione's eyes had filled with grief and tears as she slowly, jerkily shook her head.

An icy finger had slid down his spine, a coldness seeping through his bones. Then the numbness had set in. The trials had started after her funeral. They'd been put off while the wizarding world was putting itself back together and the Auror's gathered evidence against the accused.

The elder Malfoys were sentenced to the Kiss while Harry finished the estate and death papers. He went to the preliminaries for Draco malfoy six months later. He was too thin, too pale, wide eyed. He looked how harry felt. Something inside the numbness stirred.

Surely he'd understand. Surely he'd comfort Harry. So he'd bargained. And surely this was what he deserved.

He lay there thinking for many hours. Perhaps a night. He couldn't tell, couldn't lift his head to look at the clock.

Then it dawned on him. He was unfit. Unclean. Unworthy. His life had been miserable because there was simply something fundamentally wrong with him. Something about being him that made everyone he loved die or get injured, or hurt him.

He held his wand and cast spells nonverbally, so he wouldn't have to hear himself, or move enough to speak. He locked the doors, warded the house, made the windows shrink themselves into the walls until there was nothing left but the curtains hanging uselessly against the plaster to mark where they once were. He closed off his Floo network and sealed the top of the chimney so that Ron and Hermione's owls couldn't get through.

If it was hurt, or be hurt, he chose neither.

* * *

Draco had gotten off on community service for his crimes, thanks to Potter and his freaky little deal. Although at this point it he rather wished he'd just taken Azkaban and left it at that. But he'd been desperate. Desperate enough to fuck another man. Desperate enough to fuck Potter. It was pathetic.

And yet something vaguely resembling the conscience he could have sworn he didn't have kept bringing up Potter's face. The face he'd made after Draco had slapped his arm away, spit at him. Green eyes that had gone dull, like someone had turned off the light inside him.

Draco scoffed at himself and set himself more firmly to the task of scrubbing the Krup shit off the floors of the Magical Animal Rescue Shelter's floor. Next he had the oh so joyful task of feeding the thestrals. He honestly couldn't believe they had ever allowed those creatures to pull the carriages.

He switched his mind quickly away from Hogwarts. He was quite tired of the nightmares his memories conjured, and didn't need to visit them during daylight hours.

The bell for up front rang, meaning someone had Apparated with another animal.

Draco rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. He opened the door to find himself face to face with a pair of Aurors, one a tall, lanky black woman, and the other an average white male with brown hair and eyes.

"How can I help you?" he asked coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, I'm Auror Porter and this is Auror Marshall. we were wondering if you'd have any ideas on the whereabouts of Mr. Harry Potter." The woman asked, holding a note pad. He sighed.

"And why on Earth would I have any idea or care where Potter's gone?"

"You were with him the last time he was seen, at the Hog's Head." this time it was Auror Marshall who spoke up, his voice shockingly deep. Draco felt ill, his stomach swooping. Someone had seen them. They knew….

"That was the last time I saw him, and the last I ever hope to. Now if you are quite done, I have work to do. " he replied in his best haughty air, tilting his head back to look down his nose at the pair.

"No, we are not quite done." Auror Porter stated. " We need you to come with us."

His supervisor, Hannah Abbot, came in on the tail end of that one.

"Is there a problem, Aurors?" She asked, eyeing Draco suspiciously. Freaking Hufflepuffs.

"We need to take Draco in for questioning." Auror Marshall said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"It's alright with me if he needs to leave." Hannah replied, and turned back into the Kneazles room.

"oh Fine. Whatever." Draco threw his hands in the air and then held out his hands. They Side-Along Apparated him to their main office.

They led him along a corridor to the investigations room.

"now, Mr. Malfoy. Can you explain this?" Auror Porter asked, tossing a wizarding photograph on the desk. The room still had Potter's clothes all over it, and there was a large blood stain on the bed, as well as a spot on the floor. Draco stared at it in confusion. Where had all the blood come from? Unless…

"Oh Merlin. Is Potter dead?" he asked, staring up at the Aurors with a rather alarming amount of panic. _It's just because they're going to blame me_.

"We don't know." Auror Marshall said, sitting across from Draco at the table.

"So I'm assuming you either hoped I'd have more information or that I killed him." Draco speculated, giving them his best haughty stare.

"yes." Auror Porter stated plainly. Draco did his best not to gawp but was almost certain he failed.

"What we need to know is that if you weren't in there brutally murdering Mr. Potter, what were you doing?" Auror Marshall asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. Draco did his best to fight the blush rising up his cheeks, but he was fairly positive he failed miserably. He was embarrassed and shamed. It made him sick to his stomach just thinking about it. _Green eyes gone dull_….

"Shit…I guess honesty might be helpful…" He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I was having sex with Boy Wonder, ok?" he thought he could throw up.

They both did very poor jobs at hiding the complete and utter shock on their faces.

"And I swear, if this makes it's way out of the room I will gladly go to Azkaban for murder." he scowled. It probably didn't work as well with a blush.

"Do you know anyone who would wish Harry dead?" Marshall asked. Draco couldn't help it. He laughed so hard he thought his head was going to explode.

"Are you fucking joking? How about ever single family member of every single Death Eater and supporter?" He sneered. Morons.

"Do you have any idea where Potter would go if he felt threatened?" Porter asked.

"You'd have a better idea than I would. We weren't exactly cozy." Draco replied. "Now, if you don't mind, I have about twelve thousand hours of community service to burn."

"Would you be willing to help with the investigation?" Auror Marshall requested.

"And why on earth would you want my help?"

"As you said, every death eater and supporter wanted him dead. You can give us access to inside information."  
"That's…actually intelligent. Why didn't I think of that?" Draco muttered. " one condition. It counts as community service."

"Deal."

* * *

Harry didn't know how long he'd been laying there. He got up only to use the restroom. He didn't sleep. Didn't eat. His mind replayed the things he did wrong. The people he hurt. He was only glad he'd sent Teddy to stay with his grandmother before he could have caused another tragedy to befall the young boy.

He couldn't even keep his owl safe. His wife safe. His school he went, he brought grief and pain. He'd caused so many deaths. He'd had two of Ron's brothers mutilated and one killed. He should have killed Voldemort sooner, been smarter, been faster. He should have…. He should have… he should have….

Time had no meaning anymore. He couldn't tell if it was night or day. He couldn't care. He felt an ache, bone deep and penetrating, that if Voldemort had not marked him, if he'd just died, the world would be a better place. Ginny would be alive….

They'd been planning kids. Harry would have had a family. A real family of his own. Not his friends, or blood relatives that would have gladly seen him dead the majority of his life. A little baby….

He wanted a baby. He wanted a baby so badly.

Unbidden the image came into his head of what his child would look like. But… it was a little boy with gray green eyes and Draco's nose…

He lived in his mind now, and it wouldn't listen to him as it dived deeper into itself. Sixth year, following Draco. Tears spilling down his face and he was pretty, not like a girl, but pretty…. And he couldn't stop thinking about Malfoy and what he was doing and what he was planning and that neck and those hands as his slipped his hand beneath the covers in his bed…

But he loved Ginny. He'd wanted a life with her. He was happy with her, or as close to it as he had ever been. And Ginny and Draco were very different. Draco was angles and points, barbed tongue and icy coldness. Ginny was warm and soft and welcoming, with a quick wit and a quicker wand.

His mind swirled, turning round itself like a dog chasing it's own tail. His stomach hurt from hunger, so he made himself go downstairs and eat. He was waif like, thin, bones and skin, his muscles gone. His will gone. He lived in his head. He didn't need those.

His head was a wonderful place. He could pretend he was happy there.

He ate and couldn't taste it. It made him feel more ill. And he smell. But he didn't want to wash.

He'd given himself to Draco. And Draco was still on his skin. His mind rationalized bathing however. He came inside Harry. He was a part of Harry.

And so Harry filled the tub with hot water and sat in it. His hair was shaggier. Longer.

He soaked in the tub. The water turning a murky rust color from the dried blood. He lay there until the water grew tepid. He dried slowly and returned to the bed.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Draco rubbed his eyes in frustration. Who knew he'd spend so much time looking for someone he could care less about? He dug through the indexes for about the millionth time. Potter had been gone for almost three months now. They kept coming up with dead ends, and were about ready to file the death certificate and call it a dead case.

Draco didn't think too hard about why he didn't want them to do that. It was odd. Potter had been one of the few constants in his life. Always following him around, pulling pranks and fighting. It was an annoying and almost reassuring presence in his life.

He didn't feel obligated at all for his freedom. He'd more than earned that little gem. Although it didn't quite feel worth it when he traded from being a prisoner to being a slave to the Aurors.

He had to give Potter some credit. His home address was need to know basis only, unlisted, Un-plottable, and, knowing Potter, probably Warded to the nines. He'd have had an easier time finding Malfoy Manor. According to the Sidekicks, they had sent letters via owl and they'd all been returned untouched. Apparently the great ginger Oaf and his frizzy little wife were absolutely distraught. Think they'd get used to it after how many years of being friend with Potter? Apparently not.

Likewise his floo port was said to have sealed itself off for no apparent reason. Which usually meant the occupant of the house had died. Which meant Draco was going to spend another day hunting himself.

How Joyous.

He was interrupted from his internal litany on the futility of the very being of Harry Potter by his owl arriving with a letter from his parents nurse. She was just checking in blah, blah, blah, she wanted to bang him and bad. It was too sad. She had a great body but a face like a Troll.

Draco stared at the owl for a moment and then grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill.

_Potter-_

_If you're alive. Reply to this. If not, I'm having you declared dead._

_Sincerely, D. Malfoy_.

He scribbled a simple Harry Potter on the front and tied it to his owl's leg. Hermes took off through the window then, as Draco went through another list of potential murder suspects.

Harry sat up in shock as an owl landed on his beside table.

"How did you get in?" He croaked, staring up at the regal bird. He was given a haughty look in return and a leg offered with a letter. It had an elegantly messy script on the front that read his name. No address. Nothing. He opened it up and his heart skipped a beat. Draco had written. He… Harry stamped on the thought before it could form, and break his heart. He knew very well that Draco didn't care for him.

He grabbed the muggle pen he had on his bedside table and went to scribble a reply. He looked at his hands. They were skeletal. Thin and spidery, the fingers looking much too long for his palms, the nails unkempt. The skin was a pale, translucent white. They looked like Voldemort's hands.

_I am alive._

_H. J. Potter. _

He sat up to tie the letter back to the owl's leg. That was when he noticed.

He was skeletal everywhere else. He pressed a too thin hand to his gently rounded stomach. It wasn't remotely possible, what he thought. _Gray green eyes and Malfoy's_ _nose_….

And the owl… He had wards around his property in so many layers you could almost feel the magic when you were near them. The only way through any property wards was if you were a blood relative.

His head spun, dizzy at the mind in which is lived struggled to process. He felt tears well over his eyes and spill down his face to rest on his rounded stomach.

Porter and Marshall were in the library with him when Hermes arrived back with Draco's letter. It had his handwriting on the front still, saying Harry Potter.

But it was scratched out.

"Merlin's wand…" Draco breathed.

'What?" porter asked, looking at the letter curiously. Draco opened the letter and saw a spindly chicken scratch sentence.

"Potter's alive!" he exclaimed, pressing the note into their faces.

"What?! How did you get this?" Marshall yelled, staring at the note.

" I figured it couldn't hurt! I just sent it off. I guess Hermes really was worth what I paid for him, huh, Hermes?" he cooed at the bird, feeding him an owl treat he'd had stuffed in his pocket.

" That's not possible! I've sent him letters, Ron, Hermione, the entire Weasley clan, every Auror with his Address!" Porter exclaimed.

"If I give you the address, will you apparate there?" Marshall asked, his deep bass voice quiet.

"um.. Sure. Why not?" Draco replied. He didn't know why the thought made him as nervous as it did. Seeing Potter… it was nothing! It was Harry blooding freaking boy who lived to make Draco crazy Potter!

Marshall scribbled the address down and handed it to Draco. He concentrated on Potter and willed himself to apparate.

His arrival sounded with a muffled pop rather than the crack it usually had. He was facing what looked to be an on suite bathroom. The air was so thick with magic it prickled his skin and the room was dim, the sounds oddly muffled. He turned around and saw a piteous form hunched on a king sized bed. He saw what looked like arms until his eyes made horrible sense that they were legs. Gruesomely thin legs with equally thin arms wrapped around them and a dark mop of hair pressed over them. Shoulder blades as thin and sharp as knives shook.

"potter?" even as he said it he didn't want to believe it. The mop of hair raised onto a pinched, skeletal face. It couldn't be… but…. Those eyes. It was Potter. He knew those dead green eyes. They haunted him.

Potter's eyes widened in shock and tears spilled down his cheeks from his wide open eyes. They hit draco straight in the chest like a crucio.

"Oh Merlin potter…." he gasped and touched that mop of black hair. Potter shuddered and then there were tiny, skinny arms wrapped around Draco's chest and sharp collar bones and facial structures pressed into his ribs. Potter sobbed, utterly hysterical.

This was Draco's fault. He'd done this. He didn't know how but he knew it was him. He'd broken the spirit of one of the leaders of the wizarding world.

Harry knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help it. He clung to Draco, presses his face against that real, warm breathing chest. He cried. He could cling and cry, but he would have to make Draco leave. He couldn't hurt him, like he hurt everyone else.

His sobbed abated after a minute or a lifetime. He couldn't tell anymore. Draco was sitting now, with Harry curled around his side. His hand was on Harry's back, and it radiated warmth to his cold skin. His eyes and throat burned. He listened to Draco's heart beat.

"Potter?" Draco asked. His voice was concerned. Or Harry wanted to believe it was.

He looked up at his face. It was the same. Angles gently rounded by skin and a pointed chin and nose, pale hair and skin and eyes. Harry pressed a finger to Draco's cheek. Draco looked tan beside him.

"Sorry." Harry said. That pinched look on Draco's face had to mean he was upset. "I didn't mean to stay alive."

"Potter. I didn't want you dead. If I had, it would have been much more fun to simply kill you myself." Draco replied. His eyes were wide, and the dimness of the room made his pupils dilate. "I was busily working off my community service attempting to find your murderer."

"You thought I was murdered?" Harry asked, confused. His head hurt.

"Yeah. Your room at the hog's head had your clothes everywhere. And there was blood all over the place too. Where did that come from?"

Harry wanted to cry again. Draco didn't even remember what he did what they'd done.

"you don't remember?" he asked. Draco shook his head, looking confounded. "You slept with me."

"I remember that." Draco said, his cheek were pink. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Now harry was the one who was confused.

"You wanted to know where the blood came from." harry replied earnestly. He touched the scar above his collar bone.

"Yes, but again….oh…_oh_…" Draco looked sick. Harry was right. Draco didn't care. He just wanted his service over. So he had to find harry. He didn't' love him. Of course he didn't the very idea was absurd. He didn't know why it had to hurt so bad. Harry pulled away and rolled over, putting his back to Draco.

Draco felt nauseous as he remembered the pictures. Blood on the bed. On the floor. He hadn't looked at potter afterward, hadn't looked at himself. He'd cast scourgify and gone home and taken a scalding hot shower.

He'd made him bleed.

Made him bleed enough that they thought Potter had been murdered. Potter rolled over, curling into a ball, every vertebrae in his spine visible, his ribs harsh lines, his hip bones showing through his butt.

"Po--Harry. Harry I'm sorry." He said. He touched his side, felt the bones and the sharpness pressed against thin skin. Harry was shivering, covered in goose bumps. " do you remember the last time you ate?"

"no." came the muffled voice.

Draco stood and turned for the door. There were no windows. There were curtains. But no windows. He walked down the dim hallway. Everything was coated with a thick layer of dust. And along the hall, down the stairs through the living room, the kitchen. There were no windows. And the doors leading outside were almost… melted. The wood had no edge. It just smoothed seamlessly into the walls, and no doorknobs. Almost like they weren't real, simply painted on.

He found some chicken broth cubes in the cabinet, so he dug around until he found the bowls. He filled it with hot water and let the cubes dissolve while he dug around for a spoon and a napkin.

He carried it all upstairs, through the unsettling house. Potter hadn't moved. Draco had a brief moment of panic because he caught potter between breaths and thought that he'd died while Draco made him the broth.

"Hey." He said softly. Potter rolled over, and tried to sit up, succeeded with Draco's help. "I made you some chicken broth. You should be able to keep it down without it hurting your stomach."

Draco pulled down the rumpled covers. They slid from under Potter diminished weight with little effort. He pulled them back up, tucked them around potter's hips. He thought that something was odd and it took him a moment before he realized that, despite potter's starving frame, his stomach was gently rounding out. Potter was looking down at him, those eyes, once so green they almost hurt to look at, were dark, nervous, ashamed.

"Po-Harry. We need to get you to St. Mungo's." He said, earnest. Nervously watching the clink of the spoon through the chicken broth. Potter jerked at his words.

" I can't be around people." He said, softly, his voice more like it used to be after the brief use. He ate slowly, mechanically bringing the spoon to his mouth as if he couldn't taste it.

" Why not?" Draco asked, pushing Potter's fringe back. Those eyes met his, large and open, bigger than Draco remembered. Unfocused. He saw potter's glasses on the bedside table, and grabbed them. Slid them on a too thin face. Potter blinked, as if unused to seeing clearly.

"There's something wrong with me." He said matter-of-factly. Draco raised his eyebrows slightly. "You see, one of two things happens when I love someone."

"One of two things?" Draco asked. Potter said this all calmly, rationally. He sipped his broth off his spoon.

"Yes. They either end up horribly disfigured, dismembered, or dead. Usually dead." Potter said. Tears slipped from his eyes, which he absent mindedly wiped away, like a small child, with the back of his hand.

"And the second?" Draco inquired, through the kicked feeling in his chest.

"They hate me, find me disgusting." He said, softly, no accusation in his voice. Only in his eyes. And Draco's breath left his lungs in a soft 'whoosh' .

"Ron and Hermione don't hate you." Draco replied, quiet in the hushed room.

"And I got Hermione tortured, by your aunt if you recall, Ron was nearly strangled by some bizarre octopus in the Department of Mysteries, nearly killed about six more times simply in the last battle at the school. And Bill got his face attacked by Fenrir Greyback, George lost an ear, and Fred lost his life."

"And exactly how much of that way my fault?" Draco asked, staring into haunted eyes and feeling guilt cold and nauseating, creeping up his gut. Potter actually looked confused. " My aunt. Me who let the Death Eaters into the school. Me, trying to be a Death Eater, battling in the school."

"My parents. Cedric, Sirius, Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby. _Ginny_. I couldn't even keep my owl alive!" Potter yelled and he threw the bowl at the wall. The air sizzled with magic and the bowl put itself back together, the broth cleaned itself up. Potter looked pained, and pressed a hand to his stomach.

"Your life sucked. Mine did too. Everyone's life sucks. We grew up in a war, surrounded by death before we really even understood what it meant!" Draco grasped his shoulders, the bones pressing against his palms. "You want to die here, in this stuffy room, alone?"

Potter cried, hung his head forward.

"I'm sorry, alright? I just… when I slept with you I… everyone wants that. That's usually all they ever wanted. The other Death Eaters would try to bargain for it, for me. But I'd never done it. Never let them control me like that and you made me an offer I really couldn't refuse. It was nothing you did wrong." Draco said, pulling Harry's head up with a hand on his chin. " and I didn't know I'd hurt you. I didn't know I'd made you bleed."

Potter pressed forward, pressed his lips to Draco's. They were soft and dry. Draco assured himself the tug in his chest was simply pity. Nothing more. He couldn't possibly… he pulled back slowly.

'Will you please go to St. Mungo's?" Draco implored, pressing his forehead to Harry's. Harry sobbed softly, swallowed it, and nodded. He pulled his head back from Draco's and picked up his wand. He waved it and the air thinned. The muffled feeling left. Soft evening light filtered in through windows that seemed to grow from the walls.

"The floo should be open." Harry said.

Draco grabbed some clothes and helped whoosh dress. Held him as they flooed. He owled Marshall and Porter when they arrived in the hospital and the doctors were seeing to Harry.

He was back. The place where he realized he'd lost his dreams, his future. The doctors bustled around, casting spells, and diagnosing him. They set up something that resembled an I.V. to give him fluids. There weren't any needles, it just dripped and harry felt something cool through his veins.

Draco had left as soon as they arrived. He should have known better. There was something wrong with him. Why would Draco want to stay with him?

They called a Mental health specialist in. They said she would be in in a moment and then Harry was back to being alone.

The door to his room opened and Harry stared out the window.

"Hey." And it was Draco's voice. Harry turned and stared at the other man.

"You stayed." Harry said, before he could stop.

"Yeah. I guess I can part time as your personal Candy Striper." Draco drawled, a slight smirk. Harry felt his lips curve up in a smile. And then Draco was smiling back, and his face was no longer pretty and cold, but beautiful and soothing. Harry leaned over and kissed that smile. He knew he shouldn't. Knew that Draco was just humoring the poor, ill, disturbed Potter. But he needed to.

And then Draco kissed him back, pressing his mouth softly back, sucking lightly on Harry's bottom lip before pulling back. Harry wanted to pet Draco's hair and reached out again, expecting another brutal slap back and instead was allowed. His hair was soft under Harry's fingers, his eyes fluttering closed.

There was a knock and Harry pulled his hand back. His Mediwitch was back, with a concerned look on her face. She looked at Draco, confused, before focusing on Harry.

"I have some news, Mr. Potter." She said, fidgeting with her clipboard.

"yes?' he asked.

"Er. Well. It seems you're pregnant." She said. " About two and a half, three months along. We don't know exactly what affect the malnutrition has had, but in most cases the 'mother's' magic protects the baby first, so it's most likely not serious. After the mental health Mediwitch sees you, we'd like to do a few tests."

Harry pressed a hand to his stomach. _Gray green eyes and Malfoy's nose_… he was pregnant. He didn't acknowledge the Medi-witch. He curled on his side and burst into tears. He could almost hear Draco's mind chasing it's own tail and panicking. And he loved the baby. He wasn't shocked, he'd guessed, although at the time he'd thought it a part of his psychosis. But if he loved the baby that meant it would die. Or it would hate him. He cried.

The bed dipped behind him, and strong arms wrapped around him, holding below his ribs, a hand on his stomach. Draco's face was pressed into his neck, damp and sniffling. Harry pet soft hair, and they lay intertwined and crying.

There was a knock, and, like most hospital officials, the door opened before they said come in, as if the knock was simply a warning and not a question.

"Malfoy?" The voice was familiar and sounded a dreamy sort of shocked. Harry looked up to see the dreamy face of Luna Lovegoode.

"yes, Lovegoode?" Draco asked, wiping his face quietly.

"Oh. It's Finnegan now, actually. I'm the Mental Health Mediwitch. They told me Harry was in here." She said, her voice still soft, still dreamy. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

"I'm right here, Luna." Harry said. He hadn't looked in a mirror, but he couldn't imagine looking very different. Luna's eyes widened, which by all rights really shouldn't have been possible. Her face quickly went blank.

"If you would please step outside, Mr. Malfoy?" She smiled the same dreamy smile. It should have unsettled Harry, that Loony Luna was the wizarding equivalent of a therapist. But it seemed oddly fitting. Draco sighed and stepped out, the door closing silently behind him.

"I'm told you had a time of agoraphobia." Luna stated.

"I don't know what that is. " he replied.

"It a muggle term. It means you're afraid of being around people."

"I'm not afraid. I'm protecting everyone."

"Protecting them?" Luna wrote things down, tucking her hair behind her ear. "From what?"

"Me. Every time I love someone, they die." he choked, and wiped his eyes. He rubbed his round belly. Luna sat very still and quiet.

"Ron and Hermione are alive."

"I ruined their lives." Harry watched her watching him. "I'm crazy, aren't I?"

"No. I think you've seen things that you should never have had to go through. There is a disease called Post traumatic Stress Disorder. They used to just hand out spells from the mental wards for that. But I find the results are better if you let the mind work itself out." She held Harry's hand, smiled her dreamy smile. "You are focusing too much on the bad things in your life. There are so many, I know it's hard not to. But they make the good things that much sweeter."

Harry tried, but he couldn't think of any good things, and he told her so.

"You're Teddy Lupin's guardian. Mrs. Tonks says he stares at pictures of you and smiles. That his first word was 'Harry' . Your chart says you're pregnant. You have friends, a job, a home. Those are all good things."

"but… what if they get hurt? What if they die?" Harry asked, pressing his hands against a baby he barely knew he had and still loved so badly it ached. Saw the sweet, toddler face of Teddy.

"What if nargles fly out of my pants?" She replied. " there are so many what ifs in life. What can you do about them? Nothing. You can only immerse yourself in joy when it's available, and hold them close to your chest when you heart aches." She patted his hand lightly. "I'm going to give you a spell to help with the depression, and proscribe a good meal when your stomach can handle it, and an afternoon at the park with Teddy, Draco, Ron and Hermione."

"But Draco doesn't love me…" Harry said, the words spiking through his empty chest painfully.

"Love is so strangely easy to mistake for hate." She smiled, wrote down the spell for him, and patted his hair before she left the room.

***

Draco sat outside, sipping a hot coffee, the air cold with the first chills of autumn in it. His mind was reeling, spinning in circles. Harry was pregnant.

The thought was terrifying and oddly thrilling. He had a horrible vision of not having found potter until later, still stick thin everywhere but his swollen pregnant belly, skin stretched taut around bones and baby.

And he didn't know what it was about Potter. He'd always been compelling. He'd wanted to be his friend with a ferocity at age eleven that it still rattled him. His father had ordered him not to even speak to Harry Potter. That it would reflect badly if Draco were to be too close or too hostel. But he'd wanted to be his friend, wanted those green eyes to smile at him. And then they had ended up as rivals, bitter school enemies.

And Potter still compelled him. Compelled him to do things he promised never to do, to find him in his magically cloaked house, to touch skin with bones pressed to it. It explained how his letter had gotten through the wards, how he'd been able to apparate to the room.

He looked back over his life, his actions. They had both always surrounded each other. They had focused more energy and attention on each other than more ordinary school rivals. He wanted to be there with potter's friends, be a part of Potter's life.

"Draco?" He looked up to see a face that was a mix of his Aunt's and his Mother's. "I don't know that we've ever properly met. I'm Andromeda Tonks. I'm your Aunt."

"oh." Draco said. He was a bit flabbergasted. " I thought you were dead."

"No, not hardly. Disowned. Side of the light and all that." She sat across from him and Hefted up a two year old boy with a shock of blue hair and two different colored eyes. One was purple and the other green. " This is Teddy Lupin, my grandson."

He reached over and shook the toddler's tiny hand with a 'how do you do' . Teddy's hair bled out to the same shade of white blond as Draco's and his eyes followed to Malfoy gray. Draco felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord.

"A metamorphmagus?"

"yes, just like his mother." She pushed Teddy's fringe back, looking sad and wistful. "runs around changing his hair and eye color and making himself look like pretty strangers."

"That has to be confusing."

"not usually. He can't change his facial features yet. When he figures that out I'm going to have to keep him on a leash." she laughed, ruffling the small boy's hair.

"Definitely." Draco smiled, stirring his coffee. "So, what brings you to St. Mungo's?"

"Oh, Teddy's Godfather is here. Harry Potter. What about you?"

"Harry Potter." Draco replied. He didn't know what to say. They weren't lovers. They weren't together. But… they were having a baby. What do you say?

Andromeda simply smiled knowingly. It confused Draco. Everyone else seemed to know things that even Draco himself couldn't understand.

"do you mind if I give you some advice?" She asked. Her eyes were kind, knowing. "Don't let your brain get in the way of your heart."

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He'd been raised to control his emotions, with a future planned and perfect. And now he was left with no parents, and thoughts and feelings colliding in ways that he couldn't understand. He just nodded at her, as if he understood. She smiled, and Teddy reached out with hands still rounded in that soft baby way. Andromeda held the child out to him.

And Draco didn't think about it. He hefted teddy's slight weight over by the underarms and propped the child up on one hip. Andromeda smiled again, and he realized just how unsettling it was to have a family member smile at him. Even one he'd just met.

After Luna left, Ron and Hermione came in. Ron's brow was crumpled in a frown and Hermione burst into tears at the sight of him. She ran forward and buried her head on his chest. He rubbed her back reassuringly. But he still felt guilty. Felt like he shouldn't be around them. He really didn't think he could bear seeing them hurting again.

They talked, and Harry explained his motives. Hermione's angry hurt, troubled face made him ashamed. He told them about Draco. And was confused by the roll of Ron's eyes, which was more resigned than angry. Hermione's all knowing eyes.

She was thrilled about the baby, and told him so, and rubbed his belly and told him that she was going to tell Molly Weasley and she'd fatten him up until he couldn't even waddle.

"Harry. You don't ever need to blame yourself for anything that happened. It wasn't your fault." She said. He sighed, and nodded. "And you don't want us to hurt? Then don't ever scare me like that again. I was beside myself, and so scared and worried for you. Don't you think losing you would hurt us?"

He hadn't thought of that at all. He'd only been thinking of them, and yet he hadn't once thought that they'd miss him. And that struck an odd chord in his heart.

"Harry! Harry!" He heard Teddy's voice before he saw Draco walk in, holding the small boy propped on one hip, Andromeda entering behind them. Teddy squirmed and Draco walked him over, looking surprisingly open and unsure, his eyes slightly puffy.

Teddy held his arms and legs out as Draco gently set him on the bed. The toddler's hair, which had been Malfoy silver blond bled out to black and only one eye turned green. Harry smiled and teddy cried, and wrapped his tiny arms around Harry's neck.

"I've been really selfish, haven't I?" He asked, looking at Draco.

"Yes." he said simply, and sat on the corner of the bed. "But you didn't mean to be. I don't really know if that makes it better or worse. I've never really cared whether I was selfish or not."

And Harry smiled at that. He didn't remember the last time he'd done that.

Andromeda filled him in on things in teddy's life, with loud proudly proclaimed statements from teddy interjecting. Everyone was talking, and Ron laughed at a joke Draco said.

The world was ending, surely, and yet Harry felt true peace for the first time since he'd buried Ginny.

* * *

Harry got out of the hospital a week later and much heavier than he'd arrived. He was actually looking like himself again, and he'd had some physical therapy outside, so his skin was a pink that was quickly fading into brown. Draco had left for his community service, and then returned for a few hours each night. They'd been talking. Draco was surprisingly funny in a dry, witty way that Harry really enjoyed. They, of course, had rival Quidditch team favorites, but it actually made for really good debates and play by plays. He was a rather excellent strategist when it came to chess, which ended in a lot of victory dances as Draco reveled in beating Harry.

"I have a new favorite pastime now. Something I can not only beat you at, but wipe the floor with your face." Draco crowed, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just wait until Ron wipes the floor with _you_ at it."

Harry actually didn't dwell too long on what might have been different if he'd taken Draco's hand in friendship his first day at Hogwarts.

The thought of changing the past, as much as it was appealing, was also innately scary. He was the person he was and Draco was the person he was by the things they'd been through. If he didn't go through those things, he wouldn't be himself. He didn't know who he'd be, or if he'd like that person any more than this one.

He told Draco this. He knew what Hermione would reacted with. She'd give a thoughtful look and concede that it was interesting. It would remain locked in her head, filed under weird and perhaps useful information, as per Harry. It would also be color coded. Ron would give him a confused face, tell him he was one odd duck.

"I'd never thought of it like that before. I know they tell you to be careful with time turners. That's an unnerving thought. Like.. I could go back, and change one thing, and change my whole being, my whole soul, really." He reflected, eyebrows knit together, hair mussed from a day at the shelter. "Things do change you. If some one had handed ,e a time turner and said ' here, fix your life' I'd have done it in a heartbeat. But…I'm not so sure now."

He stared at Harry's belly, ran a hand up skin that was expanding at a steady rate. Then he leaned forward and kissed Harry's mouth. Harry ran his hands through tangled blond locks, kissed back. Draco pulled away first, pressing a second, closed mouth kiss before his retreat.

Harry was confused and his heart felt lighter.

Now, back at his house, he was cooking dinner for himself, Hermione and Ron. He peeled potatoes manually, because every time he tried it with his wand he ended up losing half of the potatoes. Hermione was looking through recipe books while Ron played with teddy in the yard. Harry looked up to see them romping around, teddy's hair changing to the color of all the fall leaves, as Ron chased him around in circles.

"I wonder which one's going to get wiped out first." He laughed. Hermione did too, shaking her head.

"I don't know. Ron's so chock full of excitement it's not even funny."

'I find it amusing. That and teddy's hair current looks exactly like the maple in the corner of the yard."

"We're actually thinking about having our own." Hermione said. She looked nervous, and hopeful.

"You should have one soon. Then ours can grow up together." He glanced down at his belly. It wasn't very rounded yet, but he knew he'd be waddling around soon. He still needed to tell Molly. He'd asked Ron not to, because she deserved to hear it from Harry.

"yeah. That'd be nice. Can you imagine, all the little ones running Ron around?"

"Definitely. And you should have seen it, Draco was over yesterday, and teddy dragged him out and started a mud fight." Harry smiled. Draco's eyes had gotten large and his mouth puckered small. And then he'd stuffed muck into teddy's hair and ran across the lawn, splashing and laughing. It had been so uncharacteristic of what Harry'd preconceived about Malfoy.

Hermione had scoffed and then laughed. She helped him peel the rest of the potatoes and then went to clean up Teddy while Harry finished dinner and Ron cleaned himself up.

Draco went to Harry's house after his last day of community service at the Shelter. He opened the door to find Harry sleeping with Teddy curled up in the chair beside him, an open book over his chest. He smiled softly. He kissed Harry's forehead and pulled back to see green eyes light up emerald.

"hey." Harry whispered, voice gravelly with sleep.

"hey." Draco replied, and brushed back Harry's fringe. He went to the kitchen and started putting together dinner. He was cooking the hamburger when Harry came in.

"I talked to Molly Weasley today."

"How did that one go?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't tell her everything over the floo. I was thinking maybe… We could all go to the park. Me, you teddy, Ron and Hermione, Molly and Arthur, Andromeda. Just have a nice day out. It could be celebration, for the end of your community service." Harry was fidgeting.

"It sounds good." Draco replied. And it did. He listened to Andromeda, and didn't let his brain get in the way anymore. It had really only ever gotten him in trouble anyway.

Harry and Draco had packed lunch, packed some toys for Teddy to play with, and met Molly and Arthur early at the park.

"Hey," harry smiled. He was nervous, and chewed on his bottom lip. "Er, I know you met once before, Arthur, but er, Molly and Arthur Weasley, this is Draco Malfoy, Draco, this is molly and Arthur."

"Pleased to meet you." Molly said. Her lips were pinched and she gave him a look that told him an explanation was required. Draco smiled and politely replied. He hefted teddy up and took leave to set up the food.

"Erm, well. I sort of… like him." Harry said. He saw the confusion on their faces. "we've been… seeing each other. Not very long. Mostly since I was in the hospital. He came and found me and… I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"not really, love. But.. I think we get the gist." Molly said.

"I'm pregnant." he burst out. Kind of to the tune of ' Band-Aid, rip off.' They opened their eyes wide with shock, stared at his belly.

"You really did put off telling us, didn't you?" Arthur said.

"it wasn't really planned, actually." Harry rubbed the back of his head, self conscious.

"How far along are you?"

"three and a half months." Harry felt ashamed. They'd hate him now surely.

"You and he… and then you disappeared?" Molly asked, the question repeated in Arthur's eyes.

"I've been having some difficulties, emotionally. And I don't really know why I did a lot of the things I did. I had reasons, but they don't really seem that solid in retrospect. Draco didn't really do anything. It's just… my mind. Luna said it's like.. Post traumatic stress."

Draco let out a loud laugh then, and Harry turned to see his head thrown back, holding teddy above his head and spinning, the little boy squealing with abject joy. He smiled, and then looked back at Molly and Arthur. They looked understanding then, no longer confused. Which was odd, considering that Harry was confused, and almost positive he'd made no sense.

"I think I understand." Arthur said. Molly nodded in agreement, and smiled.

"You know, you made Ginny the happiest girl in the world. She was all smiles, and excited about life when she was with you. And I know you loved her, that you still do. And I know she would have wanted you happy." Molly said. She patted his cheek and tsked. "You are far too thin still. We have to fatten you up."

Ron and Hermione showed up then, with Andromeda not long after them. They sat for the picnic, on a red checkered blanket, under a nice shady elm. Ron and Draco ribbed at each other about the Chudley Cannon's recent abject failure, in between discussions of Hermione's latest spell research. She was researching a phenomenon she called Mage Mates.

"it's quite fascinating. You can see people who have a type of polarity to their magic." She said, then took a bite of her sandwich.

"Sort of how like.. Around Voldemort the air was cold, vaguely sticky, and just generally unpleasant. That would have been his magical aura?" Draco asked, intent and leaned forward, holding his glass of pumpkin juice forgotten half way to his face.

"Yes. And around Dumbledore, there was a sort of feeling like… calm and at the same time mischievous." She replied, taking a sip of her own pumpkin juice, which reminded Draco of his.

"Or like around Harry, the air kind of has like.. Static charge to it." Ron said, around a bite of potato salad.

"yes, exactly. Well I have a theory about it. There's magic that's compatible. Like, someone with warm magic will be drawn to another with magic that's warm. Where someone who has a warm magic will be repelled by magic that's cold. Like magnets, only reversed, where like magic attracts and opposites repel. Or like, where Harry has magic that very strong in self defense, energy charged and just a little wild and warm, and Voldemort had slimy cold, calculated magic used primarily for offense. They were both instinctively repelled by each others magic."

"but the personality could override that." Draco interjected. "Like, my mother and father had different magical feel, but they loved each other."

"Yes. I'm doing some more research into it. I don't think it's really so all encompassing that it overrides personality choices and what attracts people for love. Ron and I love each other, and have dissimilar magic. In the end it all may end up just being a random occurrence, but it would be intriguing were it not. Like, there are two people with two fundamental similarities in their magic, but very, very different personalities. By all rights, they should like each other, but they end up fighting. They still end up as a main focus in the other's life, whether they realize it or not."

And again something went straight over Harry's head. It made a sort of odd sense, and at the same time he felt as if he'd missed out on something.

Molly started then on baby clothes, and when Harry was going to plan the nursery, when the baby shower should be.

They ended lunch laughing as teddy tackled Draco and demanded he play. Harry and he romped around in the leaves with Teddy, chasing him and tickling the child. Harry felt winded after a few moments, still weak from his self imposed starvation. He flopped over into a large pile of leaves, and Draco flopped next to him, teddy running off to tackle Ron next, screaming with laughter.

"I don't know when or how it happened," Draco said, softly, brushing a leaf out of Harry's hair. "But I love you, Harry potter."

And he pressed his mouth to his in bright sunlight, tender and soft, and wonderful. Harry's heart felt soothed. It sang and lifted, full and whole. He hadn't felt that way since he'd buried Ginny. He pressed his lips to Draco's, pulled back and stared into bright gray eyes.

"I love you." he said, and Draco smiled. Then Teddy ran over and tackled Draco, who let his air out with a 'oof' and ran to chase after the toddler.

He laughed and sat against the tree to watch them. Hermione came at sat beside him, as Ron grabbed a whiz bee to toss and he and Draco played 'Teddy in the middle', teddy throwing himself in the air to try to catch the round disk, and popping the star shaped bubbles it left in it's wake.

"You were talking about Draco and I, weren't you?" Harry asked.

"You guys are what made me think of it. I honestly don't know how you stood watching me and Ron dance around the bush. I've known since about sixth year that you and Draco had a thing. I didn't know exactly how it'd work out with Ginny, but she had a thing for Draco at school for a while there." Hermione laughed at the face harry made.

"I don't know. I just… I love him." Harry said, and laced his fingers over his stomach.

"I know you do. And he loves you. You guys just.. Click. And your magic together is really neat to feel. That's what got me thinking on it. And I realized that molly and Arthur have the same feel. So do bill and fleur. I can't feel my own magic, so I don't know about Ron and I, but I would be an interesting endeavor. I could get my own matching making business." Hermione laughed.

'or sell it to a match making business and make a fortune."

They sat and laughed, watching their family, and Harry's heart felt whole.

He'd need to send Luna a box of candy and books on obscure magical creatures.

Epilogue

Harry sat in the nursery, rocking Dahlia. He smiled at his beautiful baby girl and reflected on how fast the past months had gone.

Hermione had finished her research to find that the very essence of magic is what bound couples together. She had been right in a sense that the magic was similar, but it came down to it being a compatibility in the soul that was as impossible to predict as it sounded. But she had been right. Harry could feel it. Draco was his match. Which wasn't to degrade his love with Ginny. He could have been just as happy with her, and been in love. But this relationship, once it had been established, was easier. Draco understood him in a way few people did, and he understood Draco the same way.

He and Draco had been married, both wearing white dress robes, with Harry's largely swollen belly between them as they'd kissed.

He remembered Dahlia's birth. He'd waddled in the room and Draco had woken up, rushed around for his things, called Andromeda to watch teddy and gotten Harry to the hospital. He'd panicked for a moment, but then handled everything with smooth efficiency.

He couldn't remember much of the actual birth. Just pain, and spells, and then his daughter was here, and Draco had cried, and kissed them both.

And teddy was excellent with her. He helped grab pacifiers and bottles and blankets and kissed her forehead. He was back to turquoise hair again, and it seemed to stay that color. And his eyes stayed one grey one green.

Draco came in then, and kissed then both. He sat in the other rocker, and watched Dahlia sleep.

'Hermione flooed a moment ago." Draco said.

"Oh?"

"They're pregnant." He smiled. Harry laughed and grinned as well. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

This was infinitely better.


End file.
